


Patronus

by audreyslove



Series: Blackened Souls [2]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-19
Updated: 2018-03-19
Packaged: 2019-04-04 17:43:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14025360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/audreyslove/pseuds/audreyslove
Summary: Written for #OQPromptParty2018: Day 1: Special prompt: Blackened Souls Verse Regina conjures a patronus and the result is amazing





	Patronus

“Just concentrate.  You can do it,” Robin pleads, “You’re brilliant, Regina.  I  _ know  _ you can.”

“No, this is hopeless,” she breathes, slamming herself against the wall and sliding down onto the cool stone floor below.  “I couldn’t even manage a corporeal Patronus  _ before  _ Daniel’s death, I’m never going to manage it now.  I’m going to be utterly useless when they come for me.”

Over the last year it’s been absolutely apparent to anyone with a brain that the loyal supporters of the Dark Arts have taken a keen interest in Regina.

Of course the Ministry denies any such thing, says there’s no secret organization trying to bring the Dark One back, calling all the speculation and reports to the contrary “unverified rumors,” “gossip,” “sensationalism” and “tabloid journalism at its finest.”  

But then Cora escaped from Azkaban, and well,  _ no one  _ escapes from Azkaban.  Not without help. 

And it’s very hard to deny there’s not some sort of organized plan involving Regina at this point.

Robin’s in danger too.  If you would believe the tabloids, Regina is trying to recruit him to join forces for the Dark One.  If you would believe the evidence and try to avoid being a bigoted asshole, of course, the situation was quite different.  

The two of them had unplanned reactions to deadly, dark curses.  Robin had lived through it, inexplicably. Regina had died and then returned to life.  Of course they were interesting to those who have sought to bring the Dark One back into power.

Robin doesn’t worry for himself, though.  He might have had a rocky start to Hogwarts, but he’s charmed himself into nearly everyone’s favor.  He has that knack, that way about him. 

Regina, however, hasn’t been able to make friends as easily.

She’s more wounded than he is, he knows that.  His life was not easy, being a foster child never is.  He shifted from home to home at first, or orphanage to orphanage, but then, at eight years old, he was shipped to Granny’s, and all that changed.  She offered him love and acceptance while others had only offered suspicion and distrust. Silly, he thinks, for anyone to worry that a child is dangerous simply because his father had been so.  Granny put up with him, was as good a foster parent as any. 

And he’s been at Hogwarts for years, he and Emma, his foster sister, the two of them practically adopted by John and his family.  So since he has been ten he’s felt surrounded by love, by kindness.

He knows she hasn’t.  She’s had one light in her life, and that was Daniel.  And she still faults herself for his death, and that guilt seeps into every thought she has.  So of course she can’t conjure a Patronus. Not when every happy memory of her life is laced with the pain of Daniel’s death.

“That day is getting in your head again,” Robin says, “you have to put it out of your mind, let all that guilt you have no business feeling go, and then you can—”

“No, that’s not the problem,” Regina says defiantly.  “I told you, even before the… incident, I couldn’t do it, I was shit at the Patronus spell, so—”

“Regina?” he asks, interrupting her downward spiral. 

“Yeah?” she asks softly.

Are you going to sit here and tell me you won’t ever be able to conjure a Patronus because you couldn’t do one at  _ fifteen  _ years old?  When you full well know many wizards never manage to produce one at all?”

“I…” she pauses, frowning.  “But I was always able to do everything.  Except this. And besides, how old were you when you were able to conjure one?”

“Not the point,” Robin reminds.  “We’re talking about you. And you’re brilliant.  And conjuring a Patronus at sixteen is still rather impressive in my eyes.  Which, by the way, you’re going to do. You’re close. I can feel it.”

But Regina doesn’t like when he evades questions, so none of his compliments reach her.  “I asked you how old you were when you first cast a Patronus.”

“What difference does it make?”

“We don’t keep secrets from each other, remember?” Regina asks, stalking towards him.  “Didn’t you say that? We tell each other  _ everything —  _ we are completely honest with one another.   It’s the only way we can do this on our own, isn’t that what you said?”  

And fuck her, she’s right.  He groans. “I’ll remind you that most people don’t believe I can conjure one, even now.  I’ve done it when I’ve needed to, but never in class. I know Merlin will make me demonstrate in Defense Against the Dark Arts soon, but—”

“Just tell me how old you were,” Regina groans.

“Alright. I was thirteen, but Regina—”

“ _ Thirteen?!”  _ Regina gasps, “ _ Thirteen fucking years old?   _ How did that even work, you had to be—”

“I’m the youngest to ever conjure one, yes,” Robin admits, sliding down to sit next to her against the wall.  “But I’m shit at potions, I suck at charms and transfiguration. Don’t ask me about the history of magic, I barely remember anything.  But yes, I can conjure a Patronus. Barely can pass any of my other classes, but sure, I’m advanced in that area.”

“That just means you could do anything if you gave half a shit,” Regina grouses.  “Fuck, and I thought  _ Daniel  _ was the youngest in history to successfully do the spell.

There’s a twinge of pride in there, hearing that Daniel hadn’t managed to secretly mastered the spell before Robin.  Though it makes little sense, Robin often imagines himself in a deep competition with Daniel. It certainly isn’t a fair competition, as Daniel is dead and gone.  But Daniel’s memory is very much alive, and Regina mentions his accomplishments often. It makes Robin want to actually  _ try  _ in his other subjects.  And he’s determined to beat Daniel’s record in quidditch  _ (of course _ Daniel was also a seeker, _ of course _ he was).  

She loves Daniel, idolizes him from beyond the grave.  And Robin desperately wants to measure up to him for some reason, to make Regina just as proud and happy as Daniel had.  But he knows he never will. Daniel has a special place in her heart that Robin will never meet. 

Daniel is the love of her life, her protector, her savior.  And Robin is just this… this person that he can never measure up to in Regina’s eyes.  

  
  


“How old was Daniel when he first used the Patronus?” Robin asks tentatively.

“Fourteen,” Regina says proudly, leaning against the wall.  She gets like this when she talks about him. Proud. Wistful, almost happy.  “It was beautiful. This… amazing horse. A steed. Powerful, graceful, just perfectly Daniel.”

Robin fights back his misplaced jealousy and offers her a knowing smile.  “That sounds nice.”

“Show me,” Regina asks again, for the millionth time.  But Robin shakes his head.

“I’ll show you after you conjure one yourself.  Until then, my Patronus is retired.”

“Are you going to at least tell me what animal your Patronus is?” Regina asks again.  “We did say no secrets.” She raises an eyebrow playfully at him.

They do this from time to time.  Tease one another, make light of the pacts they’ve made to keep each other safe.  And he cherishes these moments where she’s not fighting him, not fighting her feelings towards him.

  
  


“It’s not a secret I’m keeping from you.  It’s a surprise.” He’s said this before, and it never fails to make her roll her eyes.  He can’t help but wink at her feigned annoyance before adding, “But like I said, when I share it with you, don’t tell anyone.  I’d rather keep the identity of my Patronus a secret for as long as I can.”

“So you can use it to get into trouble?” Regina smirks.

“Sort of,” Robin winks back.

“I bet it’s something wiley and mischievous,” Regina theorizes.  “A fox, perhaps.”

Robin rolls his eyes comically.  “Come on, if you want to see mine you have to show me yours first.”

She’s too tense to even properly laugh at that, the tiniest of smiles appearing on her lips and then disappearing.

“Okay, enough time wasted feeling sorry for myself.  Back to work.”

Regina’s face goes more solemn and serious, and then she stands up, holding her breath, her shoulders far too tense.

“ _ Expecto Patronum _ !” she tries, and flicks her wand.

But nothing comes.  

“Fuck,” she whispers, pacing.  “I just… I can’t do this, I can’t.”

“You can,” Robin insists.  He follows after her as she paces, and only has to touch her shoulder before she’s spinning to face him.  He hears the uneven shallow gasps for air, and maybe they are sobs she can’t quite stifle, or maybe she’s battling a panic attack. Her eyes flicker up at his for only a moment.  They are wet, and red, but then fluttering lashes cover them, hiding evidence of just how much she’s hurting.

“Breathe.” It’s all he asks of her, all he wants from her in this moment.  Just to breathe. His hands rub up and down her arms, and she moves into him closer, until her face is pressed against his chest.

His heart soars, like it always does when she is close.

And he moves his hands to wrap round her middle and she nestles into him.  

“It will be alright, Regina.”

“No, it won’t be,” she insists.  It’s very clear now that she is fighting tears, her breath coming out in wet puffs against his shoulder.  

“Ok, tell me what you’re thinking of,” Robin soothes.  “Let's work it out.”

Her face screws in annoyance at first, as if she’s going to fight him.  But whatever initial protest she has falters, and she relaxes, shrugs her shoulders and breathes out slowly. 

“I’m thinking of Daniel,” she says tightly. “How brave he was, smart, caring, I’m thinking of —“

“Ok.  That’s the problem.  You are focusing too much on  _ Daniel. _ ”

She darts a look at him that could wound.  Jesus, no wonder she’s so good at magic, she barely has to utter a word to cast one, when her face is the very picture of a dangerous spell.

“I don’t mean it like  _ that,” _ Robin assures, holding his hands in mock surrender.  “I just mean, focus on how Daniel made you  _ feel.” _

She looks confused, and Robin sighs.  “Close your eyes,” he directs. She does. He moves behind her, lets her brace herself against his front as his hands skim up and down her shoulders.  

“Capture the  _ feeling  _ you had with him.  The happiest memory you have, relive it in your mind, that lightheaded, purely blissful feeling.  You know that? One of those rare moments where the world seems to melt away and everything seems simple, and pure, and good.”

He gives her a few minutes to search her mind for the best memory she has, until her breath is no longer ragged and anxious, but soft, even and calm.  “Do you have it, now?” Robin asks in her ear.

She gives the slightest nod, and he moves just a bit back, removes his hands from her shoulder and whispers, “Try it now.”

She waves her wand with a regal type of grace he has never really seen before. It’s delicate, yet firm.

“ _ Expecto Patronum _ !” she says slowly, carefully.

He didn’t think it would happen this quick, he figured she’d have an Uncorporeal Patronus at first, but well, Regina is absurdly talented and skilled.

Bright, ethereal vapors float from her wand, but this time instead of sparking into nothing, they swirl together.

“You did it,” he whispers.  

He can’t see most of her face from here, not quite, but he can see the faintest hint of upturned lips.  He moves next to her, to watch the creation at her side. 

There’s a swirling of light and fog in the air as everything materializes.  

The head emerges first, it looks… perhaps like a bear, or...no, it’s some sort of jungle cat, it’s….

He sees the tail of her Patronus whip, the face more visible now, amongst the swirling bright wisps of magic swirling around it.

“What…” she asks before everything clears and it’s obvious.

It’s some sort of cat, an impressive beast.  Perhaps a tiger, a cheetah, mountain lion, or… is it….?

It is.  It definitely is.

A lioness.

Regina is no longer smiling.  The Patronus starts to fade, and he can tell she’s losing her concentration.

“It’s beautiful,” he breathes.

“It’s supposed to be a horse,” she says with some annoyance. And the Patronus fades, falling back into unrecognizable puffs of smoke.

“That was incredible!” Robin says, unable to keep himself away, throwing his arms around her.  “Regina, you did it! And it was brilliant, so strong, and fierce, and just like you.”

But she doesn’t look happy at all.  At best, she looks conflicted.

“But, Daniel’s Patronus was a horse. Mine should have been one too,” she explains, guilt and sadness dripping off each syllable.

“I don’t think that’s how it works,” Robin tells her.  “John’s parents are sickly in love and his mum’s Patronus is an eagle, his dad’s is a brown bear.”

“He gave up his  _ life  _ for me.  The least I could do…” 

“Regina this doesn’t mean you don’t care for him,” Robin assures.  “I don’t know why these things are the way they are, I don’t have the answers.  But you can’t read into this. And you can’t be guilty because this isn’t a complementary animal to Daniel.  That’s not in your control.”

She looks like she just might agree with him, because she’s nodding, her eyes drooping downwards.

But then she seems to be working something out, and looks at him almost skeptically, in that way she does when she’s ready for a fight.

“Show me yours,” she says with some resolve.  “You’ve seen mine. We had a deal.”

He freezes, realizing that what he thought would be a nice treat for her, what he thought she would laugh about, now…

Now, the joke will be lost.

“Regina, I—“

“Now,” she implores, her arms crossed.  “No sense in delaying it. I’m going to find out eventually.”

He swallows thickly and nods.

It’s hard to think of his happiest memory when you are this worried about the person you love most in the world.

But his happiest moment is fresh, and Regina is right beside him, the person who makes him feel a blissful sense of peace he never knew was possible to feel, so casting the spell won’t be hard.

“ _ Expecto patronum _ !”

Tendrils of smoke spiral out, and the Patronus forms easily.

If she hadn’t seen her own Patronus first, she would have laughed at how very  _ Gryffindor  _ he is.

The ghostly lion takes a noble sort of stance, and it looks fierce, awe-striking even (well Robin has always been a show off, she knows that about him).  And then it prances around the room. Robin tries to contain it, but he can’t fully concentrate, not with everything in the air left unsaid between them.

“Fuck,” Regina says, sounding so hurt it completely winds him.  He lets the Patronus go, not even watching as it dissolves into nothing in front of him.

“It doesn’t have to mean anything,” he soothes.  

“You did this,” Regina  accuses, sticking a finger in front of him.  “You did something to me, you changed me! You were teaching me all along to conjure a lioness,  you—“

“I didn’t.  You know I couldn’t,” Robin says softly.  There’s no sense arguing when she knows that he cannot control this.

“If I hadn’t ever met you,” she seethes, “If I had just stayed away, I wouldn’t have forgotten how much I love  _ him _ , you wouldn’t have filled my head with all this, this…”

She knows what he’s filled her head with, but she won’t say it out loud.  He’s never told her in words, but he knows he loves her. And from the venom in Regina’s tone, she knows it’s true too.

She is stalking towards him, and he’s backing away slowly, letting her have this, letting her get it all out.

“Daniel was so much better than  _ you  _ will ever be,” she fights, “He was brilliant, and humble, he  _ cared,  _ he wasn’t some grandstanding asshole looking for praise everywhere, and he was a better wizard than you will ever be!” 

And that’s when his resolve crumbles, anger and pain he was trying to conceal breaking loose. 

“I know, trust me I know,” Robin bites back.  “You never let me forget how  _ wonderful _ and  _ brilliant _ Daniel was, and how I’ll never measure up.  And that’s a really shitty thing to keep reminding me about, by the way, because you damn well know how I feel about you.”

“Don’t you dare tell me how you feel about me right now,” Regina warns.  “That is the  _ last  _ thing I want to hear.”

But he can’t stop now.  He’s so angry with her, with this situation.  He doesn’t understand how the person who has given him so much joy in is life can also be so ungodly cruel.  What sort of brilliant sorceress is able to create such pleasure and such pain so easily?

“Well tough shit, Regina. I don’t want to feel this way about a woman who will never truly let herself care for me, but here we fucking are. I didn’t mean for this to happen, I didn’t try to make it happen, I didn’t even  _ dream  _ of it happening.  But from the moment I met you I felt drawn to you, connected to you, and I can’t fucking help it!  I’m sorry if my love for you—”

“Don’t,” Regina almost begs, her hand on her stomach as if the word  _ love  _ was an arrow shot straight into her gut.  

The pain in her voice, in her posture, it melts away his anger, concern running through him like a steady wave.

“I can’t help it,” Robin says softly.  “I’ve tried not to.”

“I love  _ him _ ,” Regina says, as if she’s trying to prove it to herself.  “I won’t love anyone else.”

“I know,” Robin sighs.  He walks towards her tentatively, but she takes a step back, shaking her head in a warning.

“I don’t even like you.”  He sees it, that wild eyed look she gets when she is channelling this protective barrier of hers, when she tries to push people away.  She channels her mother, he thinks, from the way she describes her. “You were helping me so I put up with you and told you things I knew you wanted to hear, gave you what you needed within reason, but I never cared about you.  I couldn't care less if you lived or died!”

But her words don’t sting the way they intend, because he knows they were said out of anger and frustration. 

He knows she cares about him, he hates that she won’t let herself  _ show  _ that she cares, but he can understand her in a way he thinks most people cannot.

She cares about him, he knows it.

“Regina…” he says softly.  “Please…” 

“No!  God damn it!” She yells, before stalking towards the wall, slamming fists against solid stone. “It was supposed to be  _ him.  _   He loved me, he gave me everything, I was supposed to only love  _ him.” _

The solid  _ thwacks  _ almost mask her sobs. He knows she’s hurting herself, breaking skin, and perhaps bone, so he can’t let her continue.

He swoops behind her and loops his arms around her arms and middle, and she’s thrashing and kicking and crying, but he pays her no mind, just carries her off to the couch in this abandoned, secret room.

“You still love him,” he whispers into her ear when her choked sobs quiet.  “You and I are connected somehow—“ she offers a sputtering protest but he cuts her off “—we are  _ connected,  _ we both suffered from the dark curse, didn’t we?  Maybe it bonded us, maybe that’s why you have my Patronus.  It has nothing to do with how you feel about me, or Daniel.”

She shakes her head.

“It wasn’t him I thought about when I cast the charm,” she admits with pain in her voice.  “I mean it was, at first, but then, everything changed, and… just for a moment…”

Robin hates himself, because she’s hurting and miserable and he has no right to feel happy and hopeful in this moment.  But he thinks he knows where she is going with this, and why she’s directing all this anger towards  _ him. _

He keeps his voice solemn, reverent almost, and a, “The first time I conjured a Patronus I thought of the only woman who had made me feel like I belonged.  My foster mom. Granny, she went by. Emma, Will and I celebrated Christmas with her. She got us all gifts, and homemade stockings with our names sewn right into them.”  He smiles at the memory. “You can’t erase a name that’s stitched in, you know? She gave me something permanent, and for once I didn’t feel like I was just an afterthought.  I felt like maybe I belonged. Will got adopted a few months later, Emma was shipped off to a boarding school for girls, and I never had a Christmas quite like that again, but the memory was there.  Then last year, John’s mom asked me to stay the summer. She said I was  _ family _ .  That she wanted her whole family together for the summer.  And for awhile, that was the memory I use to conjure a Patronus.  But that doesn’t mean I love Granny any less, Regina. I love her just the same, it just… it was a more recent memory.”

“Maybe…” Regina says softly.

“Definitely.  Plus you have so much pain and guilt surrounding thoughts of Daniel it’s probably easier to not focus on him when you are trying to swell yourself up with bliss.  That doesn’t mean you don’t love him. It just means it still hurts, and you’re letting that guilt and mourning deep into your happy memories.”

“I just don’t want him to think I gave up on him,” Regina breathes, “If he’s watching, I don’t want him to think I am not property honoring him, or dedicating my life to him, or—“

“You know him well,” Robin interrupts.  “Do you really think he’d think so little of you?”

She sniffles and shakes her head.  “I suppose not. But I think that of me.”

Robin nods, waiting for her to meet his eyes before telling her, “You need to stop punishing yourself over something that was never your fault. And you need to realize that the people who love you know where your heart is.”

And though it stings a little, he pushes back his own feelings, and tells her, “I bet Daniel never doubted you loved him, for even one second.”

She frowns at that.  “I don’t know that he ever knew.  We… were young. He was two years older than me.  He was the type of person who was always fighting for the underdog, you know?”  She adds a soft acknowledgment, “You two had that in common.” She sniffles, shifts back on the couch and smiles a bit.  “He told me he always thought he had a purpose in life. He had a purpose, he didn’t know what. He had all this talent, all this goodness inside of him, and well, even when we first met, people would whisper about Cora being you know, loyal to the Dark One.  So no one would… I was just alone. Then one day he saw me sobbing over a letter from my mother and he… he was so kind. And he told me he’d sit with me through every Howler, through every letter, just to be there, to support me. And I was never alone again, until....” She wipes at her eye,  letting out a little choked cry. “It wasn’t all that  _ romantic,  _ with him.  We only even kissed a handful of times.  If I had known his time would be so short…”

She trails off, shrugging, swallowing loudly, and he can see the regret and pain all over her face.  He wants to wipe that pain away, wants to fill her up with compliments until she’s stuffed with positive emotion, but she won’t accept that from him.  So he cups her chin, and tilts her head until she’s looking him in the eye, and focuses on comforting her yet again.

“What you have with Daniel is special.  He gave up his life  _ for you. _  No matter what happened, you very clearly meant a lot to him.  And he had to know you felt the same. There’s a bond you’ll have that no one else can touch, no matter how much time passes, no matter the shape of your Patronus, or how many new people you meet, or happy memories you make.”  The words hurt a bit, they do, because they are true, and because Robin very much would like to have that Regina, and it seems unlikely that she will ever let them get there “Daniel still gave up his life for you, and I think he’d want you to live every moment of it.”

Regina seems to like that theory, it has her relaxing just a bit, leaning into him more, letting him wrap an arm around her back.

“And for the record,” Robin adds playfully, “should I die at any point, I urge you to find a new man to loathe and mock as much as you do me.” He winks at her, but she just shakes her head, obviously not in the mood for a joke quite yet.

“I don’t hate you,” she breathes.  “That’s just the problem.”

“There is no problem.” Robin dares to coast a hand down her arm.  She lets him, leaning into his side further. “If Daniel were alive, and you had died, what would  _ you _ want for him?”

“To remember me, always.  But not to mourn me forever.  To live. To be happy.”

“And Daniel would want the same.”  Robin soothes. “So make more happy memories, take comfort knowing what you and Daniel had is special, and no new memory could threaten it.  That’s how I think of things, any way. Even if I don’t use the memory of Granny, Emma and Will to conjure the Patronus anymore, it is still a precious memory and they are still irreplaceable people in my life.”

Regina clear her throat tentatively and asks, “Is it still that moment with John and his family?  Is that still what you think about when you conjure your Patronus?”

Robin  shakes his head, a shy smile falling over his lips.

“No.”

She raises her eyebrows and he offers her a look of remorse.  He doesn’t want to fight anymore, and he suspects if he shares his memory, she will get angry at him again.

Because now his happiest memory, the one he has no problem recalling in detail, is of Regina. She might have been a bit drunk on Elderflower wine, but she curled up next to him, asked him to stay the night with her.  Nothing much happened, just a few kisses and soft touches, but she opened up to him, shared with him, and he had never felt more at home, more complete, then in that moment.

She doesn’t push him, doesn’t say anything, really.  She completely surprises him by pressing against him, snuggling into his side.  

“I thought of you too, you know.”

He pulls her closer to him, till she’s fully in his arms, but says nothing, just enjoys the way she’s letting herself be held after finally admitting she cares for him that he makes her happy in a very special and unique way.  

He knew, he always knew, somewhere deep down inside he always knew.  But nothing can replace the joy of hearing it.


End file.
